


Maedhros Rising

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Romance, Years of the Trees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 10:20:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4217942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's more than one way to interpret 'tall', and Maedhros wasn't called the Tall for nothing...<br/><br/>(I gave in to the smut-muse tonight...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maedhros Rising

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

Laurelin’s light is weakening; evening approaches. Our small group of friends is gathered on the beach, wrapped in towels after a day of swimming in the warm waters off of Aman. Now, the tide comes in, the water sliding farther up the beach with each wave. We head for the sparse scrub and a small fire is lit. All are gathered close, some sharing their towels for extra heat. Maglor begins to play music on his lyre, Amrod and Amras sing in pleasing harmony. Curufin, Celegorm, and Caranthir all clap their hands for rhythm, and the women all rise to dance. I am among them, yet the one I want to dance for is not yet with us. Maedhros, tall and beautiful, is still swimming.  
  
We dance around the fire, undulating with the flames. We have the undivided attention of all the brothers, except Maedhros, who still has not come in. Twilight sets in; night is not far behind. I back out of the circle, no longer interested in dancing when Maedhros is not there to watch me. Soon, one by one, the women will be led away to quiet places by their chosen brother. Heated by more than the fire, a different dance will be performed, different music filling the air. My body yearns for his; skin sliding against skin; hands and mouths provoking passion that makes us burn white-hot.  
  
Then, by the light of the fire behind me, I see a familiar face emerge from the ocean. He smiles the moment he sees me waiting for him. His eyes glimmer gray, but already smolder with desire. My body tingles with anticipation; he is coming back for me. Slowly, more of his body rises above the surface, glistening as rivulets of water trace down his nakedness. If only I could be a droplet of water, slipping down his powerful chest, rock-solid stomach, trim waist, and lower… Maedhros is aroused. I can feel his need from here. My eyes widen with amazement, my body answers to his need, and hums with readiness.  
  
Soon, he stands before me and I am nearly overwhelmed by the strength of his lust. But I do not step back, for my needs are as great, if not greater than his. I do not care if he carries me to a private place; I do not care if he takes me here. All I want is that he does something soon. Now. Before I expire from lack of fulfillment. I reach for him, my hands caressing away the water that clings to his body. He burns; he burns for me. Little did I know that he was waiting for my touch. Suddenly, I am swept off my feet and into his arms. He carries me past the reach of the firelight, and then sets me down again in the sand. Water rushes around our feet, he drops to his knees and pulls me down to lay with him.  
  
Our bodies touch and an inferno rages between us. There is no time for love-play; our mutual hunger is too great to waste time on the preliminaries. I want nothing more than for him to fill me, to slake his lust with my body. As I will slake mine with his. Maedhros understands. He positions himself between my legs, and with one masterful thrust he surges into my willing body. My cries of purest pleasure mingle with his roar of satisfaction. His shaft is large and stretches me to the point of pain. But it is a pain I welcome with each rough thrust, for I will have no other inside my body. Only to Maedhros have I devoted myself.  
  
Faster he takes me, plunging deeper into my body. I have ignored the water that gently flows around our bodies. I have ignored everything but him and his wild lovemaking. Pleasure, stronger than I have ever known it to be, coils tighter within my body. He is pushing me toward the edge of passion, determined to have me come first. And he succeeds as I scream and come apart in his arms. My sheath convulses around his rod, and in his frenzy to see me to completion first, he is not far behind as he pumps once, twice, thrice before he explodes within me. His hips flex with the aftershocks, and then he collapses on top of me. I welcome his weight with sated delight. I feel his mouth as he kisses my neck, savoring the area where my pulse flutters wildly.  
  
We rest, but I feel him grow hard within me, and I am more than willing to make love again. After a few more moments of tender caressing, the fires of our passion are stoked. Maedhros grins wickedly at me and begins a slow series of open-mouthed kisses down my body. I know what to expect, yet once his body leaves mine, I feel bereft and groan my displeasure. His burning gaze captures mine and I see the promise of sensual pleasure within their depths. I return his wicked smile with my own, silently giving him leave to do as he wills; as long as I have my turn. And through that, I send my everlasting thanks to the One and all the Valar for giving me this wonderful being to love.  
  
I cry out with delight when his mouth closes over an aching nipple. My fingers tangle in his wet, auburn hair as he suckles, urging him closer, needing more. He complies with my demand and another cry escapes my lips when his tongue rasps over and around the hardened bud. My back arches and I writhe underneath him. With a chuckle, Maedhros then moves to the neglected nipple, laving it with the same attention as the other. I want more. I want his hot mouth in other places. I push lightly against his head and he once again consents to my wishes. Liquid fire flows through my veins with each lingering kiss he plants on my body. His tongue dips into my belly button, dragging a groan from my throat. I feel him chuckle again while he plays there, and then he leaves one last kiss before continuing his journey.  
  
He reaches my hips, licking each side and then toying with the upper part of my femininity. My hands, unable to grip him, fall to the wet sand grasping for purchase. His skilled mouth and tongue drive me wild. I need more, and he knows it, yet he takes his time. I have demanded, yet he is the one to throw us back in to the fires of passion. My mind might be fogged with desire, but I should have known I would not be able to control Maedhros. Not in this. But at least I know I am the only one capable of bearing his fiery nature. No one else can please him as I do. That is where I have a hold on him, and he knows that, too.  
  
I burn. His mouth inflicts exquisite torture along my inner thighs. I demand that he put his mouth where I need it most, opening my body wider to urge him there. But it sounds like I am begging for the touch of his mouth along my cleft. Valar help me, if I must beg, then I will. Maedhros cooperates and I am overcome with fire as his tongue slides against me. My hips tilt wildly with each stroke of that tongue. He holds me down to torture me further. His mouth devours me, laves my folds as if he were a starving man. A scream tears through the night, and I realize it is me who screams. That wonderful mouth clamps down over the little bud of burning desire and I shatter once more. My body shakes with release and I scream his name over and over again.  
  
Before I have time to come down, I feel myself being swept up off the sand and across his thighs. He positions my legs, guides me to straddle him. His hands grasp and caress my body and I am given no quarter. He stokes my passions alive yet again, and his erection slips along my still-throbbing core. His hips rock against mine, his face contorts from wicked mischief to passionate grimace. I know what he wants from me, and I am willing to give it. Placing my hands upon his hard chest, I move myself up and over his reddened, thick member, and then guide my body down, slowly impaling myself on him. His breath hisses through his teeth and his hands grip my hips hard. I may be in the dominant position, but I do not have control. My body receives his hard thrusts with total abandon. My hips rock instinctively, helplessly matching his rhythm. Sexual need drives us both higher than I can ever recall.  
  
Maedhros grinds himself deeper into my body, taking from me what he wants. I give it gladly, and I am lost. My back bows backward; my head falls back while my cries of pleasure are torn from me. For a third time, I am sent careening through the heavens on waves of blinding rapture. But while I shatter in his arms, I make him soar with me. His roar of total satisfaction rips through the night and his body erupts deep inside me.  
  
Finally sated, I fall against him, limp and boneless. His shaft diminishes within me, but this time I do not mind when his body parts from mine. Our chests heave with labored breaths, but he is still strong enough to wrap his arms around me. Maedhros holds me, our hearts beating as one. The world around us fades back into reality, yet neither of us dares to move. This moment is ours and ours alone. In the darkness of night, we have become one. We are bound, body and soul, to each other.  
  
Maedhros, tall and beautiful, is mine. His mind, his body, and now his heart belong to me. I lift my head to look into his eyes, and I see how true it is. I also notice the glimmer of unshed tears. His fingers trace my face, and I realize that I have been crying as well. But our tears are not of pain and sadness, but of joy and happiness and love. Maedhros has given more than his heart; he has given himself.  
  
That, above all else, is a gift I shall always hold dear.


End file.
